


The God of the World, His Golden Boy

by annabelolee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Immortals, Little Prince Au, M/M, i'll be seeing you, iwa doesn't actually die die, kinda angsty??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25550398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabelolee/pseuds/annabelolee
Summary: Oikawa becomes something to Hajime and Hajime no longer finds it difficult to answer his endless questions about being alive, about the gods, and about the universe.In which Iwaizumi and Oikawa experience:-the golden glow-many mustard flowers-the billionth day-and what it means to love a rose
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	The God of the World, His Golden Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Immortals AU where Iwa is a god and Oikawa's an astronaut  
> THE AMAZING, TALENTED, SUPER COOL AND AWESOME ALMOND (@/almangods on insta) made fanart for this fic! You can see it [ here ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CDT_qG2FoEe/)  
> There’s a song that pairs with the fic- ‘The Last Confession on Earth’ by Gumi. You can listen to it [ here ](https://youtu.be/s8KBk8ZRH54)   
> I decided to mark it with the 'Major Character Death' tag as it implies that one character dies, but all will be explained!  
> Enjoy! :D

Iwaizumi Hajime has lived a hundred and nine thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight lives.

His daily routine consists of one simple task: to keep himself healthy until his twenty-fifth birthday, where he’ll then walk to the edge of a cliff and plummet into the unknown. He’ll be born again and his routine will continue.

He entertains himself by counting the blades of grass in his backyard and drawing the shapes of clouds into the sand by the shore. He likes to sing early in the morning and make wood carvings in the afternoons. He likes to take long walks to nowhere in particular because there’s always something else to explore and he’s inevitably made his acquaintance with the woodland creatures and reptiles by the swamp.

In the many, many days that he’s spent alive, he’s met all sorts of people: gods and strangers just like him from planets simply a skip away, explorers and astronauts in space shuttles zooming by at alarming speed, the aliens that no one believes exists. Every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff he closes his eyes and lets every single memory of the past life come back in their nostalgic waves, smiling slightly to himself as he recalls the good times and the bad. He takes the leap and he falls reluctantly because, when he wakes, he knows that he won’t remember a thing.

That is why, in his almost a billion days of living, he’s never made a friend.

It isn’t that there’s no one to talk to- there are, and there are many familiar faces in neighbouring planets that like to visit him during odd hours of the day. Though he only remembers them in cycles, these same faces can recognize Hajime by walk and build alone and are companions that Hajime never forgets to greet.

The situation that Hajime resides in is that he finds his comfort in being alone, in his solitude, to ignore the inevitable:

He’s going to die and live forever.

In every life, he hopes that there will be a change in events, that the black he sees a second before he plummets to his death will be eternal, but he finds himself coming back to his senses, opening his eyes to an unfamiliar place in a familiar world. He doesn’t remember a thing except for the large, overarching fact that he’s alive yet again.

 _No regrets,_ he tells himself every evening before he settles in for the night. _No regrets, only tomorrow._

Others call it the Greatest Blessing. He calls it the Curse of the Eternal.

_Hey, wouldn’t it be great to live forever?_

Hajime likes to believe there’s more to life than simply experiencing it again.

It’s a month from his twenty-fifth birthday when a shuttle plunges into the sea at the edge of the cliff.

Hajime finds his early morning karaoke session interrupted by loud screaming from the sea. He’s humming a tune he heard on the radio connected to Earth that he’s found a particular liking to, even though the song is half static and Hajime can’t tell what most of the words are (the tune is catchy and Hajime hears the words ‘moon’ and ‘seeing you’ at least twice so he’s got some vague idea of what the song is saying). The unexpected screaming, though, stops him and sends a chill right through his body to his bones as he gets ready at an alarming speed, dashing outside and hollering at the top of his lungs, “ _ARE YOU OKAY OUT THERE?!_ ”

He’s pretty sure it’s Kyoutani toying around with space junk again. There’s been a recent exponential increase in the amount of trash found flying in the atmosphere that comes crashing in at lightning speed and Kyoutani hops around from planet to planet to assemble his newest invention/space shuttle/sole source of Makki’s wrath: the World Destroyer (“ _If you drive that thing into my house one more time, Kyoutani, I will fucking obliterate the shuttle and your ass.”_ ). The screams coming from the bottom of the cliff sound similar to the protests Kyoutani emit when Hanimaki uses the World Destroyer as target practice so Hajime knows exactly what to expect as he scurries down the staircase leading to the beach.

“I thought I told you not to bother with his space junk!” Hajime yells as he runs as fast as he can down the steps. “He doesn’t like it when you meddle around with his things and I already told you I have far more junk than what I need, anyway.”

The screaming stops as wide brown eyes regard the fast figure sprinting down the side of the cliff. Hajime doesn’t notice.

“You know, one day you’re going to find some sort of bomb and you’re going to die. Like, seriously die… or something, I don’t know. You’ll beat the impossible.”

The stranger hides behind crumbling glass.

“I’m sure Makki wouldn’t mind if you died at the hands of that thing, you know. Yahaba would probably plan the afterparty with him. The issue is how we’re going to find someone else for replacement.”

The stranger climbs out of the smoke.

“And what’s with all this smoke, anyway?! What did you do this time?! You should be glad you didn’t crash into Makki’s planet because you’d probably be dead right about now and his hands will be dirty with _your_ blood! Jeez, you’re polluting my ocean too, you know? My poor marine creatures!”

Someone coughs as metal melts behind him. The song from the radio plays in Hajime’s ears.

“Next time, he’s not going to hesitate to blow your machine up or whatever.” Hajime continues. “If you want to save the World Destroyer, work on it when Makki isn’t around.”

“Who would want to save a world destroyer?”

The unfamiliar voice sends Hajime tripping and tumbling down the rest of the steps.

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In all the old familiar places_

_That this heart of mine embraces_

_All day and through._

“I’m Oikawa Tooru.” Bright brown eyes and an ashen face extends an arm right in front of Hajime’s face. Hajime does nothing but stare. “My rocket broke down halfway to Mars and my project was dismissed. I lost contact with the rest of the scientists back home and I’ve been stranded in space for God-knows how many days before I came hurtling here. I’m hungry. Do you have food? Also, has anyone ever told you that your eyes look like Jupiter? They’re beautiful.”

_In that small cafe,_

_The park across the way._

“I’m dreaming,” Hajime says confidently.

Oikawa cocks his head to one side. “Man, I sure hope not because it’d be great to finally eat something remotely edible.”

“Eat?”

“I haven’t eaten anything proper in ten? Ten months. Give me a break.”

“I don’t like to eat.”

“Okay, but I do-“

“I don’t eat.”

Big brown eyes blink. “Excuse me?”

_The children's carousel,_

_The chestnut trees,_

_The wishing well._

“So, what mission were you on, stranger-chan?” Oikawa asks as he digs around the back of the rocket. Something breaks off and falls and Oikawa yelps. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Mission?”

“Yeah. You probably don’t know since you’re here, but JAXA’s been sending out a lot of missions to bordering planets. Relocation projects if I remember correctly. Population is getting out of control.”

Hajime has never heard of population control as a problem. It probably has everything to do with the fact that he lives in solitude on a giant planet he still has yet to finish exploring but he finds the sheer thought of a world filled completely with people _unbelievable_. There’s never been the question of “too many people” because there weren’t many like him to begin with.

He’s grown inevitably callous to some matters that didn’t apply to him because he’s gotten so comfortable with being lonely.

It’s what prompts him to say his next line.

“But people just die, right?”

A nasty scowl settles on Oikawa’s face. “Don’t talk as if life is worthless.”

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In every lovely summer’s day_

_In everything that’s light and gay_

_I’ll always think of you that way._

“Stranger-chan! Can you help me patch up this area? Hold the screwdriver.”

“You know, it would be easier if you fully removed the plating-“

Hajime’s interrupted by the side of the shuttle’s walls falling off and denting ungracefully. Oikawa stares.

“Say, do you have superglue?”

“Superglue is not going to fix that.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Hey, if you’re trying to fix it, just wait a bit and I’ll ask Kyoutani to come over. He can probably fix it for you.”

But Oikawa’s already walking away. His figure retreats down the beach as he takes in his surroundings, eyes cast out to the never-ending horizon. The wind tousles his hair and a breeze ruffles his clothes. He kicks up sand with every step he walks. He shrugs.

“I don’t know why I’m trying. They’re never going to find me.”

_I’ll find you in the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I’ll be looking at the moon_

_But I’ll be seeing you._

“Hey, stranger-chan-“

“Iwaizumi.”

A pause, before bright brown eyes turn to him expectantly. “What?”

“My name’s Iwaizumi. Don’t call me stranger-chan.”

“Okay, Iwa-chan. Hey, mind if stay with you for now, maybe for a few more years, maybe until I die? I’m stuck here and so are you and I was never taught how to react in an emergency like this one but I was top of my class, you know? That makes this situation so ironic because they didn’t think _I’d_ mess up out of everyone there. You’re the same, aren’t you? That’s why you’re stranded here.”

The reply falters as Hajime stares incredulously, trying to process the quick words that’d flown out of Oikawa’s mouth. “ _Huh?!_ ”

“There was a shuttle that went off course twenty-five years ago.” The playful smile is gone all too soon and Oikawa’s retreated into his headspace. “My dad was in it with his crew. I’m wondering if you were part of that crew.”

“I… I wasn’t.”

“That’s okay, it was a stretch anyway. You didn’t answer my question, though. Can I stay with you forever?”

_Can I stay with you forever?_

The question alone sends chills down Hajime’s spine. Oikawa’s smiling expectantly, the previous solemn expression replaced with a wide toothy grin and shining eyes. It scares Hajime right down to his core, how Oikawa could go from one emotion to the next without batting an eye, the sudden change in dynamics wrecking up the tempo he’s set for himself.

“Oh,” It takes Hajime by surprise and he hates it. He tears his gaze away for a second, processing the ridiculous way Oikawa’s question is phrased and how it hangs uneasily in the air. By the sound of it, Oikawa’s already given up and is turning to new alternatives to cope with his doom.

The song from the radio plays in Hajime’s head. He turns to Oikawa and finds Oikawa still staring back, wide eyes waiting for an answer. He clears his throat. “Well, sure, I guess. I’ve got a nasty secret, though.”

He’s about to tell him about the curse (the words were just about to fall from his lips) but Oikawa’s far too distracted by everything else on the beach to listen. “Wait, Iwa-chan, that’s a real sand dollar!”

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In every lovely summer’s day_

_In everything that’s light and gay_

_I’ll always think of you that way._

“I give up.” Oikawa throws the screwdriver down on the floor and leans back against the rocket. Hajime looks up from the buttons he’s fixing, watching as Oikawa extends his legs and arms for a huge stretch. A lazy smile replaces Oikawa’s previously determined expression. “No more food for me.”

“I thought you gave up a while ago.”

“Shut up, Iwa-chan, I work on spurts of energy and motivation.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m just refusing to give up but giving up at the same time.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Whatever. I’m hungry. Problem is, you _don’t eat_ or whatever.”

“I can just make you something.” Hajime shrugs. “It’s not a bother.”

“Make it for yourself, stomach-less boy!” Oikawa declares. “How do you not eat?”

“I’m a god. I don’t need to eat.”

Oikawa snorts. “Okay, I don’t know how entitled you got after living how many years alone on this planet but you’re no god. You’re a human being. Be humble, golden boy. I _hate_ people who are proud.”

“I’m not a human.”

“Iwa-chan, if this is what years of solitude does to someone, I want to head back right now.”

“I’m serious, Oikawa. I’m a god. I’m immortal.”

“Gods are all tall and muscular and powerful-looking. I’m taller than you. You’re very plain.”

Hajime doesn’t even bother feeling offended. “If you’re the top of your class and some special astronaut, why haven’t you heard of me? The only way I could’ve gotten here if I was your so-called astronaut upperclassmen is if I was sent out on a mission. Why haven’t you heard of me?”

“I don’t know, I guess you never came up?”

“Don’t they document every mission they send out?”

“Th-they do, but-“

“Oikawa Tooru, why are you so hesitant to believe me?”

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrow and he stares. He does nothing but stare. Hajime holds the gaze, daring Oikawa to respond first, to answer the question.

He does, eventually.

“If I believe you, it would mean that I’ve gone too far out of their reach.”

Hajime’s response is even. “If they were to reach you, the team that first watched your departure wouldn’t be alive right now.”

“I know that.”

“In the mere five seconds that it took for you to respond, ten years have passed by on Earth.”

“You never fail to impress me with facts, Iwa-chan.”

“Something’s troubling you.”

Oikawa fixes his eyes on the horizon. The smoke from the rocket has stopped rising and the air is clear again, the wide blue sky peeking out again in the atmosphere. Hajime sees every detail on Oikawa’s expression, his posture, and he watches Oikawa steadily. The human takes a deep breath and exhales shakily.

The first teardrop falls.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

_I’ll find you in the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I’ll be looking at the moon_

_But I’ll be seeing you._

“I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“Do you even have a pan?”

“I don’t need a pan.”

“So you can just conjure something up in midair?”

“Yeah.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “This isn’t some kid’s magic show, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m well aware. Cooking is tiring, I’ve tried it. I don’t like it.”

“You know what else is tiring, architect?” Oikawa hisses. “The way back up the cliff.”

Hajime turns around, staring at the long staircase leading to the top of the cliff. He hears Oikawa scream in frustration. “It’s tiring because you know no shortcuts.”

Oikawa looks at the six hundred and twenty five stairs that lead to the top of the cliff. “You wouldn’t happen to also be able to fly, would you, Iwa-chan?”

With time, Hajime finds comfort in Oikawa’s presence.

In the beginning, he didn’t think he’d like Oikawa very much. It starts with Oikawa’s whining and his protests, how he could never be pleased by anything ( _the blankets are always too light_ or _the lights are too bright_ ) yet offered no substantial criticism to save Hajime’s ass. Oikawa found Hajime’s recipes disgusting and demanded to do the cooking himself, leading to Hajime shoving a makeshift kitchen in the living room with Oikawa spending most of his time bustling around the fridge. Oikawa was always a bit too much all the time, always testing Hajime’s boundaries and needing Hajime to be extra patient with him in return. Oikawa always wakes up first, humming gently to himself as he makes his Perfect Coffee in the morning, never forgetting to prepare two cups and knocking (no, more like _kicking_ ) on Hajime’s door to wake him up. Oikawa joins Hajime for his long walks that now take even longer as Oikawa marvels over everything in existence and takes his sweet time with his exploring, slowly making his acquaintance alongside Hajime with the wildlife in the forests and the reptiles by the swamp.

A few days after the crash, Hajime introduces Oikawa to Matsukawa, Hanimaki, Yahaba, and Kyoutani, receiving surprised but knowing looks from each of them in return. Oikawa’s shocked to hear that he’s the only mortal, in turn demanding to see cool tricks that are eventually agreed to albeit humiliated expressions. Oikawa and Kyoutani, much to Hanimaki’s disdain, bond easily over his World Destroyer and Oikawa even spends a day helping Kyoutani fix the engine. Evenings are spent with just the two of them, Oikawa progressing through Hajime’s collection of novels as Hajime plays movies on the television, old black and white films that Oikawa dislikes (but Hajime knows he secretly enjoys because his eyes _always_ wander over and he wears a soft smile that smooths out his expressions). Hajime’s early karaoke sessions are joined by an unfamiliar but vibrant voice that Hajime slowly finds comforting (it’s nice having a duet partner, what about it?) and Oikawa finally is able to tell Hajime the name of the song on the radio ( _“‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ by Billie Holiday,” Oikawa perks up at the familiar tune. “Man, I love this song!”_ ). Oikawa teaches Hajime all the words _,_ scribbling them down so Hajime could learn them on his own time. Hajime sticks the paper on the door.

“Do you have any other channels?” Oikawa asks one morning as ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ plays for the fifth time.

“Nope,” Hajime walks over to crank up the volume. “It’s locked on this channel for the whole day.”

“So you’ve been listening to the same song for months?!”

“Years. Twenty four years, to be exact.”

“Can’t you fix it?!”

“I like this song.”

Oikawa snorts. “There are many, many other songs similar to this one that sound just as good, if not better.”

“If you destroy my radio, Oikawa, I will destroy you.”

“Iwa-chan can’t _possibly_ harm me!”

A kick to the shin is all it takes for Oikawa to never bring it up again. Instead, he takes his time to sing as many Billie Holiday classics from memory as he can to Hajime, who listens intently through every single song.

In the end, through all the reluctance and his own warning signs, Hajime finds himself making an acquaintance, the first person he’s ever wholly and unabashedly appreciated in his annoying and boastful stature that demands to be acknowledged. Hajime finds the bickering and the yapping less overbearing and more endearing, something he’s grown to enjoy during the gentle hours of the day.

Oikawa becomes something to Hajime and Hajime no longer finds it difficult to answer his endless questions about being alive, about the gods, and about the universe.

However, the pattern and steady rhythm they’ve created comes with its flaws and as Hajime startles awake in the late hours of the night for the third time that week, he learns that this new cycle is something that Oikawa’s body protests with everything it’s capable of.

The sniffing comes from the door next to his. It’s muffled, as if someone has thrown a pillow over their face to hide it, but it’s there, and through all of the lives that Hajime has lived through, he’s never heard something quite as sad.

The unfamiliar loneliness has taken its toll on Oikawa and Oikawa has finally come crashing down on the sixth day.

“Hey, you okay?” Hajime knocks gently before opening the door to Oikawa’s room. He finds the other man curled up on the bed, face buried into his pillow, shoulders trembling with every sob forced out of his body.

“Go away,” is the response he receives. Hajime almost snorts at the familiarity of the man’s persistent pride.

He shuts the door behind him, sits down at the edge of the bed, and reaches over to stroke Oikawa’s hair.

He surprises himself at the fond, reassuring action, something’s he’s never done to anyone else in his entire lifetime, and how familiar and _normal_ it is that he’s doing it to the sobbing stranger on the bed in an unfamiliar universe. He doesn’t stop himself and he continues as Oikawa slowly calms down, his breathing evening out until all that’s left are soft sniffs against the quiet of the night. He doesn’t question the pattern or the actions and he doesn’t question how he’s brought himself to care for someone he’s only known for less than a week. He doesn’t want to ask questions he can’t answer and Hajime finds it’s easier to let himself fall into this pattern before he throws himself off the edge of the world, where he’ll wake up and never have to worry about this again.

The man in the bed cries. Hajime waits for him to speak.

Oikawa doesn’t.

Hajime waits.

In the end, Iwaizumi falls asleep, his head hanging from his neck in an uncomfortable position as his hand rests in Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa’s awake, having pulled the pillow away from his face and staring at Iwaizumi’s figure sitting so reassuringly just an arm’s reach away. The tears stop and all Oikawa could feel is this overwhelming feeling that he _belongs,_ that he belongs in this house in the middle of nowhere on the edge of a cliff beside the sea with a lonely god that likes Billie Holiday.

He doesn’t want to belong, no, not just yet.

He doesn’t tell Iwaizumi that he cries because he’s burdened with the failure of his mission. He doesn’t tell Iwaizumi that he blames himself for the shutdown of the rocket. He doesn’t tell Iwaizumi that the one thing he regrets most of all is never telling his mom he loves her.

He thinks about the future and about life on Earth without him. He thinks about the disappearance of familiar faces, of moments whizzing by in seconds as friends and family grow old and leave him without closure. He thinks about everything he’s lost and he marvels at how little time he really has.

Iwaizumi stirs and Oikawa doesn’t think twice before tugging him down.

He scoots over to leave some space between them. In the moonlit room, Iwaizumi looks surreal. The god sleeps soundly beside him, a soft golden shimmer on his skin as his breath leaves him in gentle exhales. The lines around his eyes and his face are deep, signs of a life of sleeplessness and burdens that have been carried on his shoulders. He looks powerful, all sharp features and carefully whittled lines, and in Oikawa’s eyes, he’s already more than simply a god living on a lonely planet. Oikawa wonders exactly how much there is to really know about him because the Iwaizumi that has been presented to him has been far too perfect for him to be all there is. Despite the bad temper in the mornings and the countless gruff insults thrown his way, Oikawa finds comfort in being near the stranger that found him by the beach that horrible morning. He likes the company Iwaizumi provides and he’s found himself waking up in excitement, already smiling at the prospect of spending another day with him.

He curses himself for feeling that way. From his days on the rocket, he’d reminded himself about his new mission: land, fix the rocket, head home.

But he’s too far out. He’s on some unmarked part of the universe where no one can track him and find him no matter how hard they try and, deep inside, Oikawa knows they’ve given up. There will be more missions sent out and he won’t be taking part in any of those.

To the world, he is merely a bright astronaut that faced impending doom. His legacy is ironed out and that’s that.

And it hurts, it really does, and Oikawa wonders if he’ll even be able to make it through to live the rest of his life.

But he finds that Iwaizumi’s company helps him cope through that worry alone, that the god that greets him every morning has already done more than enough to welcome him here.

He’s starting to think that Iwaizumi is enough to get him through the rest of his unfortunate life on this planet in the middle of nowhere. He’s starting to think he’s a good enough match for the other. He knows that’s not true. The moonlight does Iwaizumi good and suddenly Oikawa feels incompetent.

He pulls himself up slowly and sits down on a chair, never taking his eyes off the god that sleeps soundly on his bed. He feels like he’s tainted Iwaizumi’s aura, that he didn’t belong next to the gold and the good.

He gets up and leaves.

Iwaizumi doesn’t let him get very far.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The demand is thrown over a mustard field cast in a heavenly orange. The sun is peeking out from behind the tips of the mountains and the world is tinted in a gentle glow.

Oikawa turns around to catch the eyes of the golden god, the brown depths hidden under furrowed eyebrows alongside a desperate and worried expression. He’s standing not far away, his figure etched harshly against the pale pinks and oranges of the sky and the yellow of the field. The image is burned into his mind, the scene of Iwaizumi standing amidst thousands, maybe millions of yellow mustard flowers surrounding him in a golden haze. Iwaizumi never fails to amaze him, even when Oikawa is acting on his own impulse and even when Oikawa doesn’t deserve to be worried about.

It brings a selfish smile to his face, and Oikawa turns away.

He continues walking. He hears soil crunch behind him.

A hand closes around his elbow and Oikawa comes to an abrupt stop. The hand spins him around and Oikawa doesn’t realize he’s crying until the same hand wipes a teardrop off his cheek.

The second he realizes it he finds it impossible to stop. There’s a searing, burning hole in his chest and it leaves him painfully breathless. He crumples to the ground, shrouded by those same yellow flowers, and he feels his heart break in two.

“It’s my fault,” he says, over and over again. “It’s my fault. I never got to say goodbye. I miss them, Iwaizumi, I miss them _so much_. I have… I have so many regrets.”

He doesn’t expect Iwaizumi to offer words of comfort, doesn’t expect Iwaizumi to do anything, really, so he’s completely unprepared for the hands that drop roughly on his shoulders, shaking him out of his panic as he catches his breath.

“I should’ve spent more time with her.” The words are out before he can stop them.

“You should’ve.”

“I should’ve been kinder to my friends.”

“You should’ve.”

“I should’ve worked harder.”

“You should’ve.”

“I should’ve… I should’ve said my goodbyes properly.”

“No regrets,” Iwaizumi says, his voice close to Oikawa’s ears. “No regrets, only tomorrow. You’re burdened by something you have no control over. No regrets, Oikawa.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“You’re not going to get over it. Let’s face it. You’re going to struggle and you’re going to spend endless nights crying over the things you should’ve done. So what? Are you going to let that burden you for the rest of your life?”

Oikawa meets his steady gaze and for once he’s thankful that Iwaizumi’s not the type for empty comfort and unreasonable promises. The fierce stare that meets his eyes and the tight-lipped frown jerks him back into reality and he’s grounded again.

“Don’t run away anymore.” Iwaizumi finishes. “Live every day for the people you should’ve loved better.”

Oikawa sobs and Iwaizumi holds him tight.

By the time they leave, the sun is high up above them. The sky is blue and the cool wind ruffles Oikawa reassuringly on the back.

Iwaizumi walks ahead of him. He makes his way through the field of mustard, the yellow flowers tickling his legs as the wind picks up fallen petals. The yellow petals blow across the field, landing on their shoulders, in their pockets, down the backs of their shirts.

Oikawa stops and picks a blossom, calling out to Iwaizumi to wait. The god stops and turns around, eyes widening when Oikawa slips the flower behind the ear.

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears turning bright red and soft pink dusting his cheekbones.

Oikawa winks. “Beautiful.”

The golden god smiles against the blue and yellow sky.

Oikawa can only stare. 

“Surprise me with a stupid fact, Iwa-chan.”

“…”

“I’m waiting.”

“You weren’t supposed to stomp all over my mustard flowers, Oikawa.”

He laughs. “Anything else?”

“Mustard flowers represent the beginning of spring.”

“There’s a book I love,” Oikawa says one morning over their cups of coffee and Oikawa’s Famous Pancakes.

Hajime stabs at a pancake and forces it down his throat. “Which one?”

“ _The Little Prince_. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.” Oikawa stirs his coffee absentmindedly. “Can you get it for me?”

The book appears on the shelf and Hajime walks over to take it to him. Oikawa’s eyes light up at the familiar beige cover, reaching out to grab the book from him. Hajime chuckles, sitting down beside him as Oikawa flips through the book.

“It’s the first book I’ve ever read from start to finish in one setting,” Oikawa explains. “It was my favourite bedtime story and my mom would go through it chapter by chapter and it would take us ages to finish but it always, always felt so nice whenever we finished it.”

“I’ve never read it, actually.” Hajime confesses, earning a shocked squawk from Oikawa in response.

“You’re telling me Mr. Cool-Facts-Iwaizumi has never read one of the most outstanding works in classic literature?”

“Yup.”

“I’m flabbergasted. Here.” Oikawa shoves the book at Hajime. “Your task today is to read it and tell me what you think.”

Hajime stares at the drawing on the front cover. “It’s a children’s book.”

“Well, yeah, of course. Why else would my mom read it to me before I went to bed? It’s worth the time, though.”

“Is it?”

“Don’t question me! You’re the one who has never read it!” Oikawa protests before standing up abruptly. He takes his mug and plate over to the sink and says over his shoulder, “Give it a shot. I have one task to ask of you and it’s to read the book.”

“Who’d ever think it’d be _Shittykawa_ who’s recommending books to me?” Hajime smirks, running his thumb along the pages of the book. “Will this be any good?”

“Shut up, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines from the sink. “I genuinely want you to enjoy it, however passive-aggressive and grumpy _you_ are-“

“Hey, I am not-“

“I’m heading out!”

“Where are you going?” Hajime turns in his chair to face Oikawa, who has migrated from the kitchen to the doorway.

“I’m taking a walk,” Oikawa says brightly. Slipping into his shoes, he gently shuts the door behind him. “See you!”

Hajime opens the book with a fond smile on his face.

_‘I ask the forebearance of the children who may read this book for dedicating it to a grown-up. My first and most serious reason is that he is the best friend I have in the world.’_

_The Little Prince_ , Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“So, what did you think, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime settles down beside Oikawa at the edge of the cliff. Oikawa’s legs are thrown over the side, him leaning back on his elbows as he watches the vast horizon spread out in front of them. Hajime crosses his legs and hands the book over to Oikawa, who takes it gratefully and sets it down beside him.

“It’s a children’s book,” Hajime starts.

Oikawa snorts. “We’ve established that.”

“It’s also alarmingly beautiful and nostalgic in its own way.” Hajime continues, earning a small nod from Oikawa in return. “It’s… about growing up. About falling far from the innocence childhood has given you and about forgetting what it’s like to be young and careless. It’s about putting useless, temporary things before imagination, creativity, and basically everything important.

“It’s about loving something- no, someone- so much that you can see thousands, millions of others just like it and still choosing that one, ugly something in the end because you love it above all else. It’s about wasting so much time on something superficial that it becomes more than just an object- it becomes a companion.

“It’s about why death isn’t something to be afraid of.” Hajime finishes. “Because, whether I like it or not, the Little Prince died, but the story tells us that if he didn’t then there wouldn’t be the stars that laugh or the planet that hides a rose. It’s about embracing what you can’t change and moving on from it regardless.”

Oikawa doesn’t speak for a long time. He merely scoots closer to Hajime and leans his shoulder against his, eyes still locked on the horizon.

“The Prince didn’t have to die like that.” Hajime finally says quietly.

“I used to stubbornly believe that the Little Prince didn’t die,” Oikawa responds. “I’d tell everyone who read the book that he made it back to his planet. I’d tell everyone that he’s happy with his rose and, guess what, maybe he is. Maybe he is happy where he is and that’s exactly what I want to believe.”

“But that’s not what the story implies, is it?”

“That’s right. The Little Prince killed himself so he could preserve the time, beauty, and innocence of the love he shared with his rose.”

Hajime doesn’t know what to say in response. They sit in silence together before Oikawa speaks again.

“The author died in a plane crash,” Oikawa says quietly. “He… was fighting to liberate his country. War does so many horrible, horrible things.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“I’m scared to die, Iwa-chan.”

Whatever he wanted to say before then disappears in an instant, the only feeling left being a dull thud in his chest, an ache he can’t seem to source. Hajime turns his head and meets Oikawa’s steady gaze.

“I’ll be like everyone in the story,” Oikawa says. “I’ll grow up and all I’ll worry about is perfection and success and chasing after what’s unreal.”

“You don’t have to worry about things like that here.” Hajime starts.

“I can’t help it.” Oikawa interrupts. “I constantly think about what will happen if I manage to fix the rocket or if they find me and I make it back to Earth alive. What happens then? I’ll be a celebrity. I’ll be interviewed until my very last breath and I’ll die as the astronaut who wasted centuries on another planet. I’ll-”

Oikawa stills, his posture going slack, and he tears his gaze from Hajime back to the line of the horizon. The seagulls caw in the air above them and the waves crash in their steady rhythm against the shore.

In the silence they share, Hajime finds that he still doesn’t know everything there is to know about the man next to him, the man that’s afraid of growing up and afraid of dying in the end. Hajime finds that he fails to understand what it feels like to not want to die, to want to push on and live another day and see another day’s worth of things. He finds that he counts down his time almost on impulse, the curse of a hundred and nine thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight lifetimes of solitude. He finds that the man next to him is doing the same and that the anticipation he feels when doing so is for a completely different reason.

Most of all, Hajime finds that, in this pocket of a moment against the giant stretch of time itself, he’s truly not alone anymore.

“I have a curse,” Hajime says.

Oikawa turns to look at him as Hajime continues. “In every lifetime, when I turn twenty-five, I have to die. I do so by jumping off this cliff. I’ve lived a hundred and nine thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight lives. I turn twenty-five in two weeks.”

Oikawa’s gaze burns. “What happens after?”

“I’m reborn again somewhere on this planet. I look the same and I spend another twenty five years here before I do the ritual.”

The man next to him releases an exhale. “I’ll still see you, then.”

His answer surprises Hajime. “Yeah. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Oikawa breaks into a smile. “Wasn’t planning to. Do you always come back to the house?”

“Yeah. Depending on where I am it takes a while, though, but I always make it back.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I used to wish to die every time I jumped,” Hajime says quietly.

Oikawa’s smile drops in an instant. “Why the hell would you wish that?”

“I’ve been living alone for far too long,” Hajime forces himself to reply. His heart pangs in his chest and he twists his fingers in his hands, pressing down against his nails. “I… I’ve spent so many days on my own with only a few people around as company. People come and go.”

“But they’re your _friends_ , Iwa-“

“They’re not, because every time I jump the memories I’ve made with others in that life get wiped.” Hajime swallows the lump in his throat. “I forget them. I forget all of them. And they’ll come and see me and introduce themselves to me and get hurt all over again. They’ve done it a hundred and nine thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight times.”

Oikawa falls silent beside him.

“That means I won’t remember you when I come back, you know.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll introduce myself again.”

“I won’t remember you _every_ time, Oikawa. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not in the slightest.” When Oikawa looks up with a genuine smile despite the tears that lingered on the corners of his eyes, Hajime finds it impossible to breathe. Something claws at his chest, something painful and heavy, and Hajime has to steady himself against Oikawa’s shoulder. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

“I told you. I’ll get Kyoutani to fix your rocket and you can go home. It’ll take a while… but we can do it.”

“No,” Oikawa says, faster than Hajime expects it. “No, I’m not going home.”

“What? Why not?”

“There’s no one left for me,” Oikawa replies simply. “But here, on this lonely planet, there’s someone who loves me, and I’ll wait for him for my entire life is that’s what it takes to be with him forever.”

‘ _It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important._ ’

 _The Little Prince_ , Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“The rose in the story was so vain, though.”

“Yeah?”

“She reminds me a little of you.”

“...don’t laugh, Iwa-chan! That was mean.”

“What? It’s a mere observation. You told me to tell you what I thought.”

“You didn’t need to tell me _that_ , Iwa-chan.”

On June 3rd, Hajime wakes up to a braided flower chain on his nightstand.

“What’s this?” He asks as he walks out of his room to greet Oikawa. He holds the chain up.

The other man is standing by the sink, humming softly to himself as he stirs the coffee. He sees the chain in Hajime’s hands and grins. “One week ’til your birthday!”

“Uh, alright, but-“

“Mustard flowers.” Oikawa hands a mug to Hajime before tapping him on the nose. “Beginning of spring.”

Hajime bats his hand away. “What am I supposed to do with a flower chain, though?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “You are so bad with presents, Iwa-chan.”

“No one’s given me a flower chain before!”

“Here,” Oikawa reaches out and opens a book sitting on the counter. He takes the chain from Hajime and drapes it inside. “A bookmark.”

“Well… thank you, Oikawa. You didn’t have to make this for me.”

“I didn’t have to,” Oikawa agrees.

Hajime snorts as Oikawa heads out the door again. “Where are you going?”

“I’m helping Mad Dog-chan fix the World Destroyer.”

“Should I call Makki over to help?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

Hajime laughs at the irony as a horrified blush blossoms on Oikawa’s nose. “Wait, no, _no_ , I didn’t mean it like that-“

“Go, go, get out.”

Hajime picks up the book Oikawa set down earlier. The Little Prince smiles back.

Hajime finds gardening equipment on the nightstand the following morning.

“You planning to bury me?” Hajime asks as he brings the shovel, dirt, and large rectangular pot outside.

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Your imagination is so wild, Iwa-chan!”

June 5th greets him with a plastic bag containing a few round, brown seeds.

“Mustard seeds,” Oikawa explains. “We’re not burying _you_ , Iwa-chan. We’re burying the seeds so we can grow flowers.”

“Didn’t know you had that in you, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa nearly chucks the plant pot at him. “I’ll have you know that I’m extremely capable of taking care of succulents.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to kill the poor mustard flowers _before_ they blossom?”

“Have a little more confidence in me, would you?!”

“Isn’t this a little cliché as well?” Hajime asks as Oikawa dumps the soil into the pot. “Love interest number one buys love interest number two flowers to plant. Characters bond over said flowers. Love blossoms in time with the flowers.”

“Love interest?” Oikawa perks up, eyes shining. “Are you saying you _like_ me, Iwa-chan?”

Completely baffled, Hajime reels back in shock. “Huh- _?!_ Shut up, Shittykawa. Is that all you got out of-”

“ _Oh,_ you do! You do!”

“I never referred to _us._ All I’m saying is-“

“Iwa-chan likes me!”

Oikawa’s too far gone, dashing out of the house as he screams at the top of his lungs. Hajime runs after him, arms outstretched to pull him back, but he comes to a slow stop at his doorstep, heart pounding in his chest for all the different reasons, watching as Oikawa runs across the wide stretch of grassland, a beautiful blush on his cheeks as he screams at the top of his lungs, “DID YOU HEAR THAT, UNIVERSE? IWA-CHAN LIKES ME!”

June 6th is flip flops and a pair of ugly blue sunglasses.

“No mustard flowers today?” Hajime asks as they head outside.

“Hmm,” Oikawa hums.

They walk down the stairs to the beach, where Oikawa immediately kicks off his shoes and heads for the ocean. Hajime stands at the shore, watching the other as he wades further out into the sea, eventually plopping down ungracefully in the water. The saltwater comes up to his neck. He turns around and smiles.

“I have a secret, Iwa-chan!”

“What is it?”

“I can’t swim.”

A mischievous grin wins over Oikawa’s features as he plunges headfirst into the water, Hajime yelling in panic as he chases after the floundering idiot. Oikawa’s kicking wildly under the water (Hajime’s legs promised beautiful bruises by the next morning) and Hajime’s grasping wildly for limbs that slip easily out of his reach. Finally, after much tugging and yanking, Oikawa breaks the water in a gasp, a wide smile that lights up his eyes as he’s clearly unbothered in the slightest. He chirps, “That was fun!”

“You could’ve died!” Hajime yells.

“I wouldn’t have because Iwa-chan will find me and save me every time!”

“You better not follow me on the day I jump, Oikawa.”

“I’m not that stupid.” Oikawa shrugs as they head back to the shore. “Hey, Iwa-chan, do you want to hear a song?”

“No, Oikawa-“

But he’s ignored, as usual, Oikawa breaking into a song in a foreign language and screaming words Hajime doesn’t understand (what does ‘Ponyo’ even _mean_?!). Oikawa runs on ahead of him, kicking up water with every step forward, the droplets gleaming under the morning light. The sun shines down on their faces, warming the wet shirt on Hajime’s back, burning the sea salt in his eyes and forcing him to halt in his steps. He rubs his eyes and shuts them tightly before blinking in the sight of Oikawa throwing his arms up in the air as he finishes his stupid song.

He’s almost at the shore now, his figure a good few feet away from Hajime. Hajime keeps his distance, watching instead as Oikawa darts onto the sandy shore and breaks into a sprint down the beach. He stands there drinking in the sight of a person who’d become more than just a neighbour- someone who’d become a _companion_ , a lifelong friend that Hajime will easily dedicate all his time to without a second thought- and his heart swells when he realizes that the stupid guy with the wind-tousled hair fit perfectly into his picture. He didn’t know when Oikawa turned from simply being a stranger to a companion, didn’t know when Oikawa turned into the same ugly thing he’d mentioned when on the cliff that he’d willingly pick over everything else every time. The man whoops and he cheers and he repeats the stupid Ponyo song and for once Hajime doesn’t mind.

He doesn’t mind the noisy man hollering down his beach and he doesn’t mind what comes next.

A stupid, stupid grin tugs Hajime’s lips upwards and he chases after the boy who fell from the stars.

They collapse on the sand, exhausted from the running and chasing and screaming. There’s sand all over Hajime’s arms and down the back of his shirt and Oikawa’s cheeks are dusted beige. Oikawa perks up, emitting a quiet “ _ooh!_ ” before reaching over and digging around for something in his bag. He pulls it out in a second.

“For you.”

Hajime takes the notebook from him. “What’s inside?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why- oh. Wow.”

The cover of the notebook is decorated with tiny, hand-painted doodles of mustard flowers.

“Hey, Iwa-chan-"

“Hajime.”

A small pause. “Huh?”

“You wanted to know my name. It’s Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Ah! How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

June 7th is a leather watch sitting in a small box on his nightstand. There are dried mustard blossoms placed delicately inside the watch’s face, decorating the space between the numbers and the hands. Hajime picks it up and laughs when he sees that the watch isn’t moving.

“A broken watch is correct twice a day,” Oikawa says in defence.

“How did you even get this?”

“Yahaba is a good person.”

“I can’t tell what time it is, Oikawa. There are too many blossoms inside the watch.”

Hajime wears it anyway.

He reveals his deepest secret at two in the morning, two days from the time of his departure. It’s spoken into a darkened ceiling washed with moonlight, spoken to a man lying next to him, their hands intertwined over Hajime’s chest. It’s spoken to a person with wind-tousled hair and wide, curious eyes that Hajime wants to look at forever.

“What are you the god of, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime stares at the ceiling for a good, long while. If he’s being honest, he’s scared to answer the question himself. The weight of the name and the question is a burden he’s carried for lifetimes, for ages and ages that he’s so desperately tried to shake off.

Oikawa can tell something is off, because he turns over and says, “You don’t have to answer that now, Iwa-.”

“Life.”

“Huh?”

He swallows the bile in his throat. “I’m the god of life itself, Oikawa.”

“That’s… that’s really cool!”

“No, because it means that I’m going to live forever.”

“And that’s okay, right?”

“No.” He’s blinking back tears and anger that fights to overcome him. “It means I’m going to be so lonely when… when you’re not here.”

When he looks over, Oikawa’s smiling, a bittersweet smile that looks far more sad than comforting. Hajime doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to know why that is.

“Not anymore.”

Wait, _what?_

“Not anymore,” Oikawa repeats, shaking his head. “You’re not going to be lonely anymore. I’ll find you in the next life, I promise, and the one after.”

“You can’t _promise_ that, you-“

“Yes, I can. I’ll do it. I swear by my word. I’ll find you in every lifetime.” Oikawa reaches over and flicks Hajime on the forehead. He recoils in bewilderment as Oikawa grins. “You’re the god of life, aren’t you? I’ll find you. You’re more than just a face in the crowd.”

“You’re only lucky so many times, Oikawa.”

“And yet I was lucky in this life, wasn’t I?” His voice has a hard, stubborn edge. His eyes flash with determination. “Who says I can’t be lucky again? I’ll find you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Shittykawa.”

“I’ll find you.”

“Don’t be dumb.”

“I’ll find you.”

“Don’t be dumb, Shittykawa.”

“I love you.”

The words die from Hajime lips as his gaze locks on the ceiling, on the moonlit walls brushed with the silhouette of leaves from the trees outside. The insults falter and he’s left in a trance, in a shocked and unexpected situation that leaves him breathless. He doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. The words from the confession sear and they burn.

The man beside him tugs on his shirt. He turns.

“You have to promise me one thing in return, Hajime,” Oikawa says.

“What?”

“You stay alive until then, okay?”

The promise is locked into the night as they intertwine pinkies like children, grinning about the stars that laugh along with them.

June 8th is a song played on the radio. It’s ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’, with its familiar static and cutoffs in sections Hajime remembers but the difference this time is that Oikawa sings through the whole song.

His arms are locked around Oikawa’s waist as Oikawa all but chokes him with his elbows digging uncomfortably into Hajime’s shoulders (“You don’t know how to dance, Oikawa,” Hajime says. “I do!” Oikawa snaps back). They move awkwardly in the living room, Oikawa treading on Hajime’s feet more than once (“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Oikawa apologizes, but his eyes twinkle) and Hajime kicking him back every time (“Whoops, my bad,” Hajime says, not feeling very apologetic at all). It would be quite a sight to see, Hajime admits, two grown men moving awkwardly to an incomplete song on the radio, one singing obnoxiously at the top of his lungs while the other gave him kicks every once in a while. It would be quite a sight to see, but Hajime thinks that it’s perfect the way it is.

He finds a small glass vial filled with mustard seeds in his pocket.

“Tomorrow’s a special day, Oikawa.”

“Why’s that? Is it the Day Before You Jump?” Oikawa holds up his fingers and makes quotation marks in the air.

Iwaizumi snorts before turning back to the horizon in front of them. The sun’s about to set, casting the ocean and the atmosphere in a beautiful, soft orange. The sky is brushed pink, gentle lines against the fading light, and in this aura, at this moment locked in Oikawa’s memory, Oikawa believes that Iwaizumi is the only golden god in the entire universe.

“It would be my billionth sunset.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen. “You would be alive for…?”

“One billion days.” Iwaizumi nods. “Let’s watch the sunset together again tomorrow, okay?”

And Oikawa agrees wholeheartedly. The smile on Iwaizumi’s face is golden.

June 9th is a morning filled with familiar faces. Kyoutani is the loudest of all, pulling Hajime outside to show him the newest addition to the World Destroyer (“It looks exactly the same,” Hajime says, much to Kyoutani’s disdain). Yahaba brings baked goods, new recipes he’s been dying to try out despite the fact that no one genuinely wants to eat the disgusting green mush he presented in a giant pan. Matsukawa brings him a t-shirt, giant words hand-painted with his familiar calligraphy ( _“‘Today is my death day,’”_ Hajime reads as Matsukawa howls in the background) that he doesn’t hesitate to toss over Hajime’s head. Hanimaki gives him a key, winking as he says, “This is a copy of the key to the World Destroyer.” Hajime pockets it discreetly.

Oikawa excuses himself early, all but pushing the four gods into the room and begging them to have fun as he heads out to take a walk. When he leaves, the other four turn to look at Hajime expectantly.

He stares awkwardly back. “What?”

“Did you tell him?” Yahaba asks.

Hajime nods. “He knows.”

“What happens after?”

“He introduces himself to me again, and we go from there.”

Hanimaki shrugs. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You know… I’m sorry.”

The words surprise Hajime himself as the other four squawks in protest.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kyoutani waves his hand in the air.

“Yeah, we’ve been doing it for so long that it’ll be weird _not_ to introduce ourselves every twenty-five years!” Yahaba agrees.

“It’s not something you can control, anyway,” Hanimaki adds.

“Oh, but do you remember when he tried to control it, though?” Matsukawa interrupts. “He got crushed by a boulder that came out of literally nowhere!”

Hajime cringes at the memory. “It was the universe’s way of telling me to follow the rules.”

“What’s this?” Kyoutani calls from somewhere in Hajime’s room.

He comes walking out holding the small glass vial with the mustard flowers. Hajime laughs.

“It’s from Oikawa. He’s been giving me a gift every day for the past week.” Hajime admits. “That’s the one he gave me yesterday.”

“Are there more?” Kyoutani scans the room. “Oh, wow, is that a notebook?”

“Why are you so surprised-“ Hanimaki starts, but Kyoutani’s already flipping through the pages. “Oh, it’s empty.”

“I haven’t written anything yet,” Hajime explains. “And he’s given me other things. A bracelet, a watch, seeds, gardening equipment.”

“What’s up with all the yellow flowers, though?” Kyoutani and Yahaba are now staring at the cover, brushing their fingers along the painted flowers.

“It’s a good memory.”

Matsukawa jerks his chin at the notebook. “You should write something so you don’t come back to him empty-handed.”

Hajime stops for a second before picking up a pen. “I know exactly what to write.”

The sky starts with a gentle mix of blue and yellow. Oikawa’s humming as they walk close together to the edge, their shoulders bumping against each other with every step. Hajime’s hands tighten on the notebook he clutches against his hip.

“The sunsets here are always so beautiful,” Oikawa says, plopping down on the grass as he extends his legs out in front of him. “I didn’t see these every day back on Earth.”

“It’s something I’ve been taking for granted.” Hajime agrees, settling down next to him. “I’ve seen a billion of these but they’re all just as beautiful as the last.”

“It’s shocking that you’ve seen so many,” Oikawa adds. “You’ve been alive for so long. Hey, I have a question. Do you come back as a foetus? When I find you, will I have to gently pick you up and implant you in a chicken-“

“Oikawa!” Hajime hisses as the other breaks into a cackle. “No, I come back looking exactly the same.”

“So you’ve been an adult your whole life?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow,” Oikawa clicks his tongue. “That’s a shame. No baby pictures of you for me to discover.”

Hajime grins. “Now, if I come back as a human, I’d ask for your special permission to please put me in a chicken.”

“Your wish has been received. We are now waiting for procedure.”

They laugh as the sky changes colour, the yellow fading to give way to a tinge of orange. The clouds in the sky turn pink, standing out against the horizon. The line where the sky meets the sea blurs, the ocean mirroring the reflection of the sky, changing the view in front of them to something so spectacular it leaves Hajime breathless. Under the billionth sunset, Hajime glows and Oikawa never takes his eyes off the golden god.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts.

“No,” Hajime interrupts. “No sappy shit or whatever sad essay you were going to recite. This isn’t the end.”

“I wasn’t going to recite your eulogy,” Oikawa chuckles.

“Oh? What were you going to say?”

“That the sky is so beautiful,” Oikawa replies. He doesn’t tear his gaze away.

Beside him, Hajime watches the canvas of the atmosphere darken in its slow, slow pace. He didn’t expect a climactic ending for his billionth sunset and he didn’t receive one, even though the colours were just as breathtaking as the first time he’d watched a sunset on his own. The universe promises a good ending at the end of every life and it hasn’t failed to keep its promise, Hajime realises, as he watches the colours swirl and change, until the pinks and oranges become reds and violets, until the colours give way to the darkness and thousands of stars litter the dark blue above them. Oikawa reclines back on his elbows, leaning into him. The sky above him is unfamiliar, constellations he doesn’t recognise and patterns he’s yet to learn.

“‘ _You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad._ ’” Oikawa recites.

The final gift is exchanged at the edge of the cliff, just as they’re about to leave.

The god hands over the notebook with the yellow flowers, slapping the other’s hands when they open it curiously.

“For tomorrow,” the god says, “before I jump.”

The mortal’s hands extend to present a bouquet of yellow flowers, slightly droopy from a day’s lack of water. The god’s eyes light up in surprise at the hundreds of mustard flowers clutched in trembling hands. In his eyes, that’s all he needs to take the final step forward.

“For someone just as beautiful as the field I picked these in.” The human says, and the golden god beams.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Oikawa says.

“I’ll just be gone for a minute,” Hajime replies, ignoring the heavy pounding in his chest. They head to the edge of the cliff together, hands intertwined tightly as shoulders bump against each other. His legs shake with every step, his fingers tingling, as he fights the emotion biting and clawing at his throat: he’s afraid.

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In all the old familiar places_

_That this heart of mine embraces_

_All day and through._

For the first time in his hundred and nine thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight lifetimes, Hajime wants to wake up after the plummet.

It’s funny how his mindset, once so stubborn and hard-edged, could change in one measly month. It’s funny how the person who changes it is an annoying, selfish, attention-seeking asshole who’d do anything to get what he wants.

And what he wants is for Hajime to come back.

_In that small cafe,_

_The park across the way._

He didn’t know someone with so little in him could mean so much to him in such a short amount of time. He didn’t think that this empty planet, filled to the brim with beautiful places to explore and beautiful fields to see, could become a place he finds companionship in. He’s almost sad to leave because he’s been so happy for the past month. His body shakes as he anticipates his return.

Hajime pleads with the universe that it’ll grant him another lifetime, that he can remain this golden god forever. He pleads with the universe not to rip Oikawa away from him within the short time they’ve known each other because Hajime has prepared himself for the many years to come.

He pleads with the universe to be kind, and the universe gives its answer.

_The children's carousel,_

_The chestnut trees,_

_The wishing well._

“You better be back within the minute. I’m expecting you back here in five minutes flat.” Oikawa drawls. “Hurry up and jump off, sheesh.”

“If I’m not back here, I want you to find me.”

“I’ll look for you everywhere.” The determination in his voice sends a chill through Hajime’s body. Oikawa stands with his feet shoulder-width apart, a strong set to his stature and his jaw. He doesn’t smile. “I swear I’ll find you.”

“I won’t be far, you know.”

“This planet is big. I don’t know.”

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In every lovely summer’s day_

_In everything that’s light and gay_

_I’ll always think of you that way._

Hajime shoots him a reassuring grin. “It’ll only be five minutes. I come back to you every time.”

Oikawa swallows the desperation rising in his chest. “Only five minutes.”

“Don’t be sappy.”

“I love you.”

“Don’t be sappy.”

“I love you, Hajime.”

_I’ll find you in the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I’ll be looking at the moon_

_But I’ll be seeing you._

Oikawa watches Hajime walk to the edge of the cliff, stopping just a few feet from the drop. Hajime turns around, Oikawa merely a small outline in the distance now, and he raises his hand in a wave. The man waves back.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Hajime shouts into the distance.

“I’ll find you,” Oikawa replies.

_I’ll be seeing you_

_In every lovely summer’s day_

_In everything that’s light and gay_

_I’ll always think of you that way._

Oikawa looks down at the notebook he holds in his hands and he opens up the first page, freezing in shock as his breath comes out in a gasp. The words of the song fly by so quickly, lyrics he knows from memory, words he can recite anytime, and all he can think about is the man at the edge of the cliff, the golden god with the Jupiter eyes. His heart clenches tightly and he breaks out a sob.

_I’ll find you in the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I’ll be looking at the moon_

_But I’ll be seeing you._

“‘ _It is such a mysterious place_ ’,” Oikawa recites, choking back the sadness that’s threatening to spill. “‘ _It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears_ ’.”

In the distance, Hajime takes the leap, and Hajime is not afraid.

**"'But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass, since she's the one I sheltered behind the screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose.'”**

_The Little Prince_ , Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

**Author's Note:**

> SO I whooshed through this in 3 days SO PLEASE PARDON THE MANY MISTAKES!!  
> 'The Little Prince' is my favourite book and for VERY good reason. If you haven't, I recommend you read it RIGHT NOW!  
> I really hope you enjoyed this! I tried to end it on a happy note so- to clear things up: Iwa is not dead dead and they will find each other again!  
> Also, as your fellow jazz musician I just HAD to make some sort of Billie Holiday reference :)) please don't mind me  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated yayay!


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